


Dachang High School Host Club

by sydneycai



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, basically random ipd contestants will appear, host club, theres gonna be LOTS of characters, very loosely based on ouran, you’re either going to love me or hate me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydneycai/pseuds/sydneycai
Summary: - in between stolen kisses and the dazzling of city lights, there’s dachang high school host club. they’re rich kids with time to spare and looks to be fawned over, choosing their pick every day like changing clothes because face it, gucci was so last year; yet they stick to it like a smoker with nicotine. this is an invite-only club, where only the richest of the rich, and the best of the best can enter.





	Dachang High School Host Club

**Author's Note:**

> yeah it’s ouran inspired but don’t expect much i suck at updating and it’s super loosely based and yeah zhengting’s a top here,,, or perhaps a switch like tamaki :)) anyway enjoy still!!! <3

  wenjun’s a particularly tall guy, broad shoulders and a smile that looks much like a cat. he’s a scholar, admitted to this prestigious school that he admittedly can’t afford even if his father worked two lifetimes for it. he decides to wear his old blazer, the insignia of his old school stitched snugly on it’s breast. wenjun feels the threadwork before he enters his new academy.

 

 he smiles, eager for a fresh start. he wants to stay under the radar, so he dons black thick-rimmed glasses, a loose sweatshirt and made his hair look unkempt. all the clichés for the “nerdy loser” starter pack. wenjun surveys his surroundings, a bit surprised by the uniform that the girls have to wear. he can’t help but laugh, the girls resemble bananas-- maybe it’s the unflattering shade of yellow used, or the puffiness of the skirt that practically floats away from their legs. 

 

 wenjun notices a few girls staring at him, whispering to their friends. they’ve probably never seen anyone that dressed this shabbily, he thinks. lost in his own thoughts, he doesn’t notice when he bumps into someone. he hears his glasses fall with a thud, and although he has 20/20 vision, he needed it for his “disguise”. “i’m sorry!” he said frantically, feeling the floor for his eyeglasses.

 

 “bi wenjun, age 21. class 2-B, same as the twins.” the man rambles on, and wenjun feels a shiver go down his spine. how in the world did he obtain all this information? is he the son of the lady manning the records office? but that can’t be, it’s illegal and the girl looks like she’d fight tooth and nail to hold down her job.

 

 “how do you know?”

 

  the man just smiles, and a dimple pops out of his right cheek. “i’m lin yanjun, member of dachang high school host club.” 

 

_   host club _ . what a gaudy name for a gaudy thing. however curiosity piqued wenjun’s interest, and he begins to wonder what a  _ host club _ is doing in a prestigious school such as this.

 

 “ah, i know what you must be thinking. don’t worry, the president is the son of this academy’s founder.” he says nonchalantly, as if being a bigshot in this school is the norm. yanjun stares at wenjun, assessing his looks before patting his shoulder. “i suggest you to not wear those glasses anymore. you have perfect vision, why bother?”

 

  a shiver crawls down wenjun’s spine. he is afraid of where this conversation is leading them. “how would you know?” he says indignantly, chest puffing out with the obvious stubbornness of a man who had his plenty share of battles and won them. 

 

  yanjun looks him up and down, even though wenjun was a head taller than him. “ok, you’re in!” he drags wenjun off by the arm, and wenjun, unwilling, skids all the way there, trying to repel the pulling action of yanjun just to fail. 

 

 “where the fuck are you taking me?”

 

 yanjun swerves to look at him, and even though wenjun is a hundred and forty pounds of pure muscle, it doesn’t look like he broke any sweat. “taking you? that’s where you’re wrong. we’re already here! welcome to dachang high school host club!” he says, he opens up his arms, waiting for wenjun to take in the grandeur of the club he is oh-so proud of.

 

 the room is exactly how wenjun imagines it to be— much like a disney movie backdrop. it has pillars that encompass the whole room, vines wrapping around them like a greek temple. everything is pristine— wenjun swears he can see his own reflection on the floor. there are vases, paintings and art hanging on every nook, but he knows it’s all meticulously arranged to create a certain effect. 

 

 wenjun, albeit impressed, has his pride and refuses to “ooh and ahh” like a star-struck fan meeting their idol for the first time. but once he takes in the majesties of the room—big, big and bigger—his jaw dropped. “is this even a room? this is the size of my house!” he exclaims, and yanjun tries hard to stifle his laugh because even though he’s  _ filthy rich _ , he has had some experiences with the lower class. 

 

 “i guess it’s just normal, if you would? the size of my bedroom is twice as large.” he wasn’t bragging, and he said it like a fact—and that’s why wenjun hated it all the more.  _ fuck rich kids and their big houses and private swimming pools. _

 

  yanjun paces around, sizing up wenjun as if he’s lower than him and wenjun wants to spit on him but he’s a neat freak and he can’t bear to see the sparkling granite get dirtied on.

 

  “you’re around six feet, maybe more, considering the fact that you’re taller than me. if we sweep your hair nicely, and tousle it a bit, your eyes would be seen.” he pushes wenjun’s bangs away, and suddenly yanjun feels much much more  _ real _ . he sees the way his black orbs sparkle, and he has to take in a breath because he’s just  _ stunning _ and suddenly he understands why people would flock to this “host club.”

 

 “yeah, your eyes are nice. big, black and glimmering with sarcasm, i like it.”

 

  wenjun laughs a bit, because  _ really? _ of everything that he likes, it’s the way his eyes shine with  _ sarcasm _ ? 

 

   “you have broad shoulders. and you smile, well, cutely.” yanjun murmurs the last part, and he had to double take if it even came from yanjun’s the mouth. he thought that only self-praise would escape from that mouth, but yanjun is proving him wrong once again. 

 

  “say that again?” he teases, and when he see yanjun’s eyebrows furrow, he chuckles to himself.  _ cute _ , he thinks. “nothing. i’m saying that you, bi wenjun, is qualified to join dachang high school host club. are you going to join or are you going to join?” not everyone has had the privilege of being scouted, and more so _ yanjun coming to fetch them _ .  so yanjun waits for the nod of his head, or his mouth forming the words “yes” and smirking.

 

   “no.” wenjun flat-out refuses, he has enough on his plate—from taking care of his father and balancing his studies, he doesn’t have enough time for frivolous activities such as this. yanjun’s smile drops, and he’s ready to go full on angry when suddenly a kid comes out of nowhere and bumps into wenjun.

 

 he knocks over a vase, one situated in the middle of the club, standing there in its full glory. the kid’s obviously guilty, but wenjun has always had the soft spot for kids, and this one is no exception. “it’s fine.” he waves off, even if he feels like that his head has suffered a concussion and that the shards of this vase that he broke were digging into his skin.  _ oh, wait fuck. the vase. _ he scrambles up, brushing off the dirt on him, and watch the kid zoom out of the room.

 

 “how much does this cost? i’ll pay for it.” wenjun begins to fish out his wallet, counting the dollars he has left in it. yanjun walks closer to him, one step at a time and waves his finger around, signaling  _ no. _ “it’s an ancient vase dating back to the ming dynasty. if anything, it’s priceless and even if you sell one of your kidneys, you wouldn’t be able to pay for it.”

 

 great, just his luck to be able to break into one of the most expensive vases in the whole fucking room. he’s about to cry but yanjun interjects, “ _ unless _  you work for us until you graduate. just two years for a broken ming vase.” and this time, he hates the way yanjun’s eyes gleam, as if he plotted for this to go his way.

 

 wenjun hates being not left with a choice, but what can he do? he’s just a scholar here, and he has to make up by being a host at this pretentious academy. 

 

“silence means yes, then now let’s meet our president!” he smiles, but underneath his dimples and honey-like words, there’s a sense of arrogance in it.

 

 yanjun doesn’t need to drag him this time, and wenjun follows him as he walks straight until they reach this room that’s twice as big as the previous one and smells like a meadow of fresh flowers. he’s greeted with a pretty boy donning a costume which seems closer to arabian royalty, the others (eight, wenjun counted) all looked like they came straight out of aladdin.

 

“welcome, knight. what treasure do you bring me here?” the pretty boy—legs that could run for miles, taut body but definitely with muscles and big doe eyes lean in closer to take a look, as if inspecting him for any defects. 

 

 “a new addition to your harem, sir.” wenjun chokes on his spit, almost contesting on the choice of word that yanjun used. “i’m not your concubine!” he protests. the boy blinks, momentarily dumbfounded and guffaws, grace and posture lost with wenjun’s outburst. 

 

 “it’s cosplay sweetie, don’t think about it too much. my name’s zhengting by the way. i’m the president of this club.” he has his hands on his hips, and minus all the costumes and whatnot, he still exudes an air of royalty that makes wenjun want to bow down to him. he has this rich boy face, obviously a bit naïve and has never worked a day in his life due to being born with a silver spoon in his mouth. wenjun wonders what made him decide to start a  _ host club _ in the school that his father had founded, but he decides it’s a question better saved for later.

 

 he watches yanjun explain the details to zhengting, while zhengting bobs his head up and down, pausing once to laugh or to show an expression of disbelief. he looks at the rest of the people who were once sitting down only to see they’re gone and only one person stands beside him.

 

 “i’m cai xukun. vice president of this host club.” he has blonde hair that glimmers like amber, and his face looks so perfect that wenjun doesn’t know whether he’s actually human or not. (he decides the latter.) “my father’s friends with his, and that’s how we met!” unlike zhengting, xukun doesn’t look “crazy”. he doesn’t even meet the definition of it. he looks like him, except filthy rich and filthy handsome.

 

 the both of them look to zhengting moving his arms up and down animatedly while the others decide to listen in the conversation, their curiosities obviously piqued. “he is cute, no?” xukun says in  _ that voice _ , and wenjun knows. his chances with this perfect boy has gone down the drain. 

 

 “do you like him?” as soon as those words slip out of his mouth, he nods. it’s like he ignited a fire inside of xukun, and wenjun’s almost jealous, maybe if they knew each other a little longer. “we’ve been together, but it’s no biggie. not really exclusive.” wenjun knows that this might be true, but the two do share affection for each other. 

 

 zhengting approaches them, and so do the whole cast. zhengting nuzzles his head onto xukun’s shoulder, murmuring some words that he couldn’t decipher and kisses him long and hard, as if he’s starving and xukun’ s the only food in sight. he loops his arm around xukun, then proceeds talking. 

 

 “ok so listen up! we have a new member, he’s here to pay for his debt because he broke our ming vase! chengcheng, justin, you’re in the same class as him. do lead him, ok?” he barks out orders like a king to his knights, and they all do a mock salute. wenjun thinks that he’d never, ever get used to this.

 

 “i’m going to introduce you to some members. here’s nongnong.” he points to a boy with a shy smile on his face, wenjun almost cooed. “that’s the twins, chengcheng and justin. they’re in the same class as you.” one look at them and wenjun knew that either they’re going to be a heck lot of trouble or a heck lot of fun, or maybe both. the both of them grinned at him, extended their arms and wenjun shaked them together. 

 

 “this is ziyi. he’s also the captain of the dance team.” a tall, man with long raven locks nods at him, showing him a weird kind of sign. “before ziyi goes on to his long introduction, i need to introduce linkai, or what he prefers to be called, xiao gui.” wenjun’s first impression of him was that he looked like a pretty soundcloud rapper, maybe one that girls would be fawning over if he decided to wear those gold chain and clout glasses less. but if he’s here, then he has no trouble of getting girls to fawn over him, wenjun thinks. xiao gui throws a peace sign and zhengting continues.

 

“this is zhangjing, our last recruit before you. believe it or not, he already has scouts waiting at our academy’s doorsteps waiting for him to graduate just so they can be the first to sign him a record deal.” his voice shows that he’s very proud, and he looks over to zhangjing, embarrassed with all the praise that the tip of his ears turn red. he finds him lovable. 

 

 “now that the introduction is over, welcome to dachang high school host club—serving only the richest of the rich and the best of the best. it’s your privilege to get to be one of us, and remember. this is an invitation only club—we give it only if they beg _hard enough_.”   

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me in [twitter](https://twitter.com/wanglinkais) hehehe
> 
> got questions drop them in [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/sydneygui)


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